Nyctalopod (Level ???)

Once a radiant butterfly native to a now-destroyed Fourth Realm planet, the Nyctalopod has been irreversibly corrupted by the Astral. Its beauty is gone, replaced with monstrous features. It now roams the void, drawn to concentrated sources of energy, spreading terror wherever it appears. Few who encounter it live to speak of the encounter.

The Nyctalopod loomed above us, and all I could do was stare in horror.

The nightmarish moth was no ordinary beast. Its body was the size of a small house, and its wings stretched wide—at least sixty feet across. But it wasn’t the size that terrified me. No, it was the way its blackened flesh constantly rippled and writhed, as if alive with its own foul will. Bulging, glowing veins pulsed underneath, their light sickly and faint, spreading a malevolent aura that made my stomach churn.

Its tattered wings were an unholy sight. Their translucent, frayed surfaces bore etchings of shifting patterns, symbols that danced in ways my mind struggled to process. They were mesmerizing and revolting at once, the kind of beauty that made you feel sick to your core.

Three gnarled, clawed appendages sprouted from each, clutching and tearing at the fabric of reality itself. It was widening the fissure in the sky—a gaping wound in existence. Shards of reality crumbled from the edges of the crack, falling like broken glass only to disintegrate mid-air. The shards dissolved into an explosion of impossible colors, light that bent and twisted into shapes my brain couldn’t comprehend.

The Alpha and I froze mid-fight. The savage beast that had been trying to rip me apart moments earlier now stood like a statue, head tilted back, its unblinking eyes fixed on the monster above. I wasn’t any better. My legs refused to obey me. My arms wouldn’t lift .

My breathing was shallow, my chest rising and falling in weak gasps.

The Nyctalopod was halfway through the rift now, its grotesque form hovering above us. It didn’t have eyes—or even a head—but I knew it was looking at me. I could feel its gaze, an all-encompassing pressure that pinned me in place. This wasn’t just fear. It was something deeper, something primal.

The veins along its wings began to glow brighter, the sickly red light spreading across its grotesque body. The patterns on its wings moved faster, shifting and contorting until, at last, they stopped. Two massive runes burned into place, glowing with an intensity that made my head throb. I didn’t understand them, but I didn’t need to. These symbols weren’t for me. They were older than me—older than anything I could imagine—and just looking at them made me feel small, insignificant.

The runes pulsed once, twice, and then the veins along its body funneled the red light into their centers. Without a sound, two thin beams of light erupted from its wings, screaming through the air faster than I could track.

This was it.

For a brief moment, I felt an eerie sense of peace. It wasn’t right, but in that moment, it was comforting. I was about to die. That was okay, wasn’t it? I had fought. I had lived my dream, however short-lived and messy it had been.

But the beams never reached me. They stopped inches from my chest. No shield appeared, no surge of power, nothing. The beams simply stopped, as if the universe itself had decided I wasn’t worth the effort.

The Alpha wasn’t so lucky. One of the beams tore through its head with pinpoint precision. There was no sound, no burst of gore, nothing dramatic. One moment, the beast was whole; the next, a hole had appeared in its skull. Its massive frame wobbled once before collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud.

The air went still. Time felt like it had stopped. I barely had time to process what had happened before reality itself tore open again.

Two massive antlers pushed through a tear in space, glowing with golden energy. A familiar, powerful presence surged through the air, so overwhelming it made my knees buckle.

I choked out a single word. “Velarion…”

A notification flashed on the edge of my vision, but I ignored it for now. The weight of the moment was too much to process, and everything felt too surreal.

Velarion finally emerged in its full glory. My heart raced as it paced around, taking in the battlefield with an air of detachment. It stopped briefly by the Alpha's lifeless body, casting it a single, disgusted glance before moving on, as if even the corpse of such a powerful creature was beneath its notice.

Meanwhile, the Nyctalopod continued its relentless assault. Beam after beam shot toward us, the air around them sizzling and boiling with unnatural heat. But Velarion didn’t even acknowledge the attacks, as though they were nothing more than an annoyance.

With the same effortless grace, Velarion turned its gaze toward me, a sharp, appraising look that felt as though it was peeling away every layer of my being. My skin prickled as it spoke in its usual haughty tone.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Hmm, your journey here seems fruitful.”

I could barely contain my frustration. The words spilled out before I could stop them.

“Where the hell were you? Why didn’t you come sooner? Do you know how many times I almost died over the past few hours?”

Velarion tilted its head slightly, an almost bored expression crossing its features.

“And where did all that bravado go? I was here, ready to intervene when needed. But you didn’t want me holding your hand, did you?”

I opened my mouth to argue but found myself speechless. How could I explain how useless it felt to be on the brink of death, hoping for help that never came?

Velarion flicked its head dismissively, and then turned its attention back to the Nyctalopod, its voice cool and detached.

“This insect is quite persistent.”

With a movement so swift it was almost too fast to track, Velarion flicked its horns, and the Nyctalopod—the horrifying creature that had nearly torn us apart—was instantly bisected into atoms. The air was filled with a sickening, putrid rain of its disgusting, corrupted fluids, but not a single drop touched us.

I stood there in awe, my mouth dry. I wanted that kind of power—the kind that could erase such a terrifying creature without breaking a sweat.

“Now, check your notifications and tell me about your gains,” Velarion commanded, as though it were a matter of little consequence.

I hesitated but complied, opening my status screen.

Quest: Rot and Redemption - Completed!

Objective:

* Kill 100 Rotwolves (100/100)

* Kill the Alpha

Calculating rewards...

* 500 EXP

Item rarity downgraded due to intervention by third party

A simple iron ring materialized in my palm. The small, unimpressive loop gleamed dully in the light.

Ring of Minor Focus (Common)

A basic iron ring. +4 Astral Mind

I felt a sting of disappointment. After all I had been through, all the blood I had spilled, this was my reward? A dollar-store trinket?

Velarion must have sensed my discontent, and its voice was laced with a hint of amusement.

“What did you expect? A legendary sword for killing a bunch of oversized pups? The System is fair, but it doesn’t coddle you. You need to earn its gifts.”

Before I could fire back a retort, a movement from the cave entrance caught my eye. A small, broken Rotwolf pup was dragging itself out, its legs crushed, its body a pitiful sight.

Hope surged in my chest, though I knew it was pointless. It wouldn’t survive. Still, I couldn’t help but cling to that shred of hope. It was all I had left.

The pup dragged itself toward its father’s corpse, nuzzling it gently, biting at the unmoving body. The sight tore at my heart.

I started moving toward it, unsure of what I would do, but it didn’t matter. I had to try. I bent down, my hand outstretched, ready to scoop it up.

Then, in an instant, Velarion was beside me, and with a single crushing stomp, it killed the pup.

The sound of it breaking was sickening. I froze, my heart heavy with shock.

“Why?” I choked, the word coming out in a breathless rasp.

“Huh?” Velarion’s voice was impassive, as though the question was beneath it. “What do you mean why? It wouldn’t have given you any EXP anyway.”

The coldness of its response ignited something inside me. I stood up, shaking with a mix of anger and grief.

“It was just a baby! You didn’t have to kill it!” I shouted, tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t hold them back any longer.

Velarion’s expression shifted, though it was only slight. It looked at me, a dangerous glint in its eyes, and I instinctively backed away. My outburst, so full of emotion, seemed to have broken through its indifference.

“I’ll forgive your insolence this time,” it said coldly, “but get this through your head: that creature you’re so desperate to protect was going to grow up into a monster. A siphon of energy. It would have drained everything it could, everything it wanted, and still not been satisfied. Energy that belongs to the universe. Energy that fuels life.”

Velarion paused, and its voice softened, just enough for me to hear the edge of understanding in it.

“I understand your hesitance. You’ve grown up on Earth, where the line between good and evil is often blurry, but I’ve lived longer than you can imagine. I’ve seen what these creatures can do if left unchecked. They must be eradicated. I’m trying to mold you into a protector. A warrior.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to scream that no one was born evil, that there was always a choice. But the words stuck in my throat. So I simply nodded, wiping away my tears, unable to look at the lifeless body of the pup any longer.

“Good,” Velarion said, its tone returning to its usual, unfeeling voice. “Now, your time here is nearly up. Time to return to your physical body.”

I looked at the stag, hesitant. “What happens then? How do I go back?”

“Don’t worry about that,” it said, dismissing the question with a wave of its hoof. “Just have a normal day. You need to rest your mind. Think of me when you’re about to sleep. No need for affirmations, just think of me, and I’ll know.”

A flush of embarrassment washed over me. “Oh, you heard that...”

Velarion chuckled softly. “It wasn’t so bad. You have no idea what your kind asks of me.”

Before I could respond, Velarion’s tone shifted once more, becoming slightly more serious.

“Before you go, tell me about your skills. I’ve been watching your battles. You think on your feet, that’s good. But you’re clumsy. We need to work on that.”

I stared at the ground for a moment before speaking. “Can’t you just inspect me?”

“No,” it answered bluntly. “Your status is yours alone. Only the System can access it.”

With a resigned sigh, I pulled up my character sheet.

Name: Alex

Titles: Ascendant (???)

Level: 24 (3105/3250)

Attributes:

* Astral Body: 25

* Astral Mind: 43 +4

* Astral Spirit: 28

Skills:

* Levitation (Common) - Level 11

* Manifestation (Common) - Level 18

* Astral Sight (Common) - Level 8

* Inspection (Common) - Level 6

* Astral Echo (Unique) - Level 5

I read the sheet out loud

I considered telling Velarion about my unique skill, but something inside me held me back. A gut feeling that it wasn’t the right time. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt it was better to keep it to myself—for now.

Velarion listened in silence before commenting, “Hmm, lacking, but decent for your first adventure. Good thinking about focusing on your mind for now. Keep working on that.”

It didn’t add anything more, just gave a nod as if satisfied.

“Let’s go,” it said, and a portal opened before me, a shimmering doorway into the unknown.

Without another word, I stepped through.

As I stepped through the portal, I couldn't shake the feeling that Velarion knew more than it let on. My unique skill—Astral Echo—was powerful, and even though I had kept it hidden, I was certain the stag had noticed it during our fight with the Alpha. It wasn't subtle, after all.

But Velarion didn't mention it, and I didn’t know why. Maybe it was testing me, waiting for me to reveal it on my own. Or perhaps it just didn’t care—it had a way of making me feel like I was the one being assessed, not the other way around.

Either way, I had the distinct impression that Velarion was never far behind, always watching, always knowing more than I could ever guess.